


All-New Spider-Woman: Changing Minds

by secretlyasummers



Category: Marvel (Comics), Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: Gen, Genderswap, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 23:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15806616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretlyasummers/pseuds/secretlyasummers
Summary: After the fall of Hydra's Secret Empire, a new Spider-Woman enters the stage - a female clone of . . . Peter Parker?





	All-New Spider-Woman: Changing Minds

_An Abandoned Hydra Bunker_  
  
_Maryland, USA_  
  
_Six Months Following the Fall of the Secret Empire_  
  
The machinery inside the bunker hissed and whirred, pistons and fulcrums moving up and down, over and over. Automated cannons outside rotated back and forth, while holographic shielding rendered it all but invisible to the naked eye. Months ago, this would have been augmented by veritable hordes of Hydra stormtroopers and flying, tentacled, dreadnaughts – though the beaten down subjects of Captain America’s kingdom wouldn’t have been doing that much investigating, frankly. Now, though, with Hydra defeated and the Avengers once again symbols of freedom and justice, the bunker was all but abandoned.  
  
The pistons hissed coolant, while the computer screens and databanks flickered on and off. The guns were immobile in their batteries, while the holographic screens had all but failed. Hydra, apparently, did not build for long-term construction. Let alone the remains of a failed continent spanning Empire.  
  
Inside, a bank of computers noted the failing condition of the facility, increasing the likelihood of detection by the Avengers or what-not, and the failing viability of the projects inside. One by one, the safeguards of the facility were shut down, and the safeties shut off. In the rear of the bunker, there was a single stasis tube, with a lone figure inside. It floated in the stasis fluid, a breathing mask’s tube stretching from it’s face to the top of the tube. Vital statistics and designators scrolled on the screens at the bottom of the tank.  
  
_> projectspiderv.02_  
  
_> desig.auth.octavius.88_  
  
_> ychromeminusvariant_  
  
_> reilly.warren.tech.integ_  
  
The coolant hissed from the tank, and the fluid began to drain from the stasis tube. Slowly, the liquid lowered and, the breathing mask hissed, and then detached and collapsed. The stasis fluid drained away, and the figure collapsed to the ground.  
  
Peter Parker’s eyes opened, taking in the situation – the decayed bunker, the whirring and humming of the machinery, and the long, detailed banks of computers and data storage devices. Peter stumbled to her feet, and tripped over her own feet. Her weight didn’t seem to be distributed right, or at least not in the way that she remembered.  
  
Peter got back up and meandered her way around. She looked over unfamiliar emblems, or at least ones that Peter only knew from history books and old movies – skulls, mechanical tentacles, recorded images of a goggled man in green, white, and black. Hands clambered over keys, and Peter accessed the databanks. There were references to things that were unfamiliar – the ‘Phoenix,’ Secret Wars, some organization called the ‘Avengers’ – but more importantly, experimental records and research logs.  
  
Peter triggered the first one – clearly this Hydra organization hadn’t expected infiltrators inside the facility. A hologram sparked to life, a blue flickering projection flashing onto the center of the floor. It paced back and forth, talking to itself.  
  
“This is Otto Octavius. Experimental Log 287. I’ve long since mastered the cloning process, enough to create this new, proto-clone, body, once that combines both my natural genius and Parker’s incredible strength. Hydra’s resources are endless, nearly, but with Parker still running around in Europe, I lack the genetic material for further experimentation. I’m down to just my original sample, the one I acquired the first time we fought, all those years ago.”  
  
Peter blinked. Doctor Octopus? They had fought just hours ago, until Octopus had thrown Peter out of the nuclear research facility they were fighting in. She triggered the next experimental log.  
  
“This is Otto Octavius. Experimental Log 290. Blast it! The genetic material is far, far too decayed for any meaningful experimentation! Those Hydra fools can’t even hold together a simple genetic capture, let alone true advances in the name of Science! If Captain America had even a lick of sense, he’d have slaughtered that fool Zola years ago.”  
  
What? Peter was confused. Captain America was dead. Captain America had died in the second world war, years and years ago. And he had fought Hydra, not worked for it . . . The next hologram flickered to life.  
  
“This is Otto Octavius. Experimental Log 292. I’ve managed to finally get around the limitations in the genetic material I have left. It’s a decade and a half old, after all. It’s not usually a problem, of course, but after Osborn, Parker, and the chaos of the Hydra government’s takeover, it’s frankly a miracle I have this stable a genetic sample after all.” The man paced back and forth. “I was able to use a bit of Reilly’s technology to stabilize the just the X-chromosomes. It means that, unfortunately, Parker’s memories will remain in the subject, but” – and here Doctor Octopus cackled gleefully—“I have plenty of experience in overwriting those. This will be but the first in an army of Spider-soldiers, that will break all my foes before me! . . . for the greater glory of Hydra, of course.”  
  
Peter blinked. Peter was just a high-school sophomore but wasn’t an idiot. Only X-chromosomes remaining meant . . . the next log flickered to life before the thought could be completed.  
  
“This is Otto Octavius. Experimental Log 293. Blast! Hydra’s telepaths couldn’t be more pathetic if they were trying to be useless failures. They only managed to get the very basic frameworks implanted, just the unconscious changes needed to be made for the subject’s mind to even remain intact over time. I’ve done this twice over, by now! Murder the basic memories, and then make something new over the remnants. They’re being too . . . naïve. Fools, all of them! I’ll deal with it after we defeat the resistance once and for all in New York. Octavius out.”  
  
Peter blinked. A . . . clone? He – she, she supposed – wasn’t . . . real? Some copy that Doctor Octopus had made, and made years and years after the . . . the real Peter Parker had had it’s genetics sampled.  
  
(Though Peter wondered for a second why it would be assumed that the other Peter was the real one. Continuity of consciousness wasn’t maintained anyway, and the Theseus’ ship nature of a body meant that it wasn’t like much of the other Peter wasn’t new anyway . . .)  
  
The computer screens flickered off, and Peter saw himself – herself – reflected in the screen. Octavius hadn’t lied. Long brown hair, full lips, hips and the like, though the hospital gown that she had been floating in in the stasis tank didn’t help.  
  
Peter . . . didn’t mind, actually. (Though probably a name other then Peter would be better.) Doctor Octopus had mentioned psychic changes, and Peter supposed that was the reason why. Though it didn’t matter, she guessed – the change, the harm, had been done.  
  
Peter leaned against the computer banks. Psychic influences or whatever, the shock wasn’t quite breaking in. It was more . . . being resigned, to the place that he or she or whatever was in.  
  
_Krash_  
  
A drawer fell in the back, breaking Peter’s reverie. A set of costumes, and a pair of web-shooters. Octavius had clearly planned ahead. Wherever Peter was, whatever had happened, whatever Octavius had done, remaining here wasn’t an option. She had to find Aunt May, and the real – the first – Peter. It was something, some action. At least.  
  
Though the name ‘Peter’ probably had to go.


End file.
